


cup soups and tissues

by taylormorley



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Minor Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Minor Finn Collins/Raven Reyes, Sick Character, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylormorley/pseuds/taylormorley
Summary: Her head is fuzzy, feeling full of cotton as she opens her eyes as the sun shines through her window. She’s not exactly sure what the time is, early, she knows that, but the only thing she knows she wants to do is to go back to sleep. She keeps quiet, already feeling a sore throat develop. The feeling goes through her mind that she might be forgetting something today, but she’s too sick to care as she sinks further into the comfort that is her bed, curling her body up as tightly as she can.or: the one where Clarke is sick and Bellamy takes care of her.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 101





	cup soups and tissues

Her head is fuzzy, feeling full of cotton as she opens her eyes as the sun shines through her window. She’s not exactly sure what the time is, early, she knows that, but the only thing she knows she wants to do is to go back to sleep. The duvet still weighs down heavy on her body, blanketing her with warmth as she hears her roommate Raven patter about. She keeps quiet, already feeling a sore throat develop. The feeling goes through her mind that she might be forgetting something today, but she’s too sick to care as she sinks further into the comfort that is her bed, curling her body up as tightly as she can.

“I’ll be back later Griffin, don’t miss me too much!” Raven shouts, slightly muffled through Clarke’s door. “Try not to sleep for too long, princess, okay?” She hears a little bit closer. She doesn’t reply, head too fuzzy to even think about having a conversation. Clarke was never a morning person, and whenever Raven would leave for work, usually at about seven o’ clock in the morning, Clarke always decides that her beauty sleep is more important to her. 

Feet patter down creaky stairs as she listens to Raven leave the apartment. It was one of Clarke’s rare days off from working, and she’d never been more glad for that. Fifteen hours of being on call and getting covered in every body fluid imaginable can really get to you, Clarke thinks. She does enjoy it, she really does, but it’s not what she really wanted to do. She knows it would make Abby happy, and it pays the bills, and that’s all Clarke needs at the minute. 

She stays in bed, feeling for her phone she left on the nightstand. She unlocks the phone and quickly scans through her notifications. A new follower, a handful of new messages in the groupchat, someone asking her for study notes, nothing out of the ordinary for her. She mindlessly scrolls through Facebook for a second, settling on the fact that she isn’t missing anything important, puts her phone back on the nightstand and and tries to enjoy her day in bed. 

Or so she thought - her head starts to pound as she comes to her senses, pain radiating from behind her eyes, to her sinuses and throat. She’s helped patients that feel like this millions of times, the words decongestants, pain relievers, and cough relief floating through her mind. She’ll make a mental note to head out to the store to get some later, but for now, she’ll catch up on sleep from her rude awakening. 

______________

It’s 3 in the afternoon, and Bellamy still hasn’t heard a word from Clarke. He’s getting a little worried now. She usually texts him all day, even through work if he can. He knows he wasn’t supposed to meet her until five, but he still finds it strange that he hasn’t heard from her at all. He decides to text Raven, because if anybody knows, he’s sure she will.

_ (15:10) reyes, is clarke ok??? I haven't heard from her yet _

He waits a gruelling two entire minutes for her reply, and it’s entirely unhelpful as he thought it might be.

_ (15:12) hello to you too, boy blake! she was ok when i left at 7 this morning. sleeping beauty, as always, u know what she’s like, blake _

He considers just texting Clarke and asking her if she’s still up for that coffee date, but he realises something must be seriously wrong if Clarke wasn’t texting him, at all. He takes a second glance at his textbooks sprawled out in front of him, pens and pencils a mess as he tried to study before tomorrow’s lecture. He decides that Clarke is more important, as he hunts down a pair of shoes and his car keys. He leaves a note for Miller, just in case he comes home unexpectedly. 

He knows Miller will tease him insistently later, calling him _ whipped, _ but it didn’t bother him. He’d gotten enough teasing from Octavia over the years. Before him and Clarke started dating, and Clarke was with some bland, brunette boy, ( _ what was his name _, Flynn? Finn? Bellamy wasn’t sure) he found it convenient to ‘have plans’ whenever he would see them together. It was for his own safety, really, as whenever he would see her with the shaggy-haired boy, his fist would clench, longing to be able to drag Clarke away from him.

It wasn’t such a surprise that, six months later, she would find a metal necklace tucked in his bedside drawer. She would then find out that she was the ‘other girl’ in the relationship while Raven had been on an intense training programme, and she and Raven had hit it off straight away, leaving Finn behind. 

Once he finishes scribbling a note, he’s out of the door, books forgotten as he gets into his car, programming his mental map for Clarke’s place. He’s only been there once or twice, and only when he was invited, so he feels slightly guilty for going over when he hadn’t been asked to, but even though he had been dating Clarke for just a couple of weeks, he’s known her for years, and he knows when something is up. 

He takes a detour to the closest store, picking up some of her favourite snacks in case she’d wanted a quiet night in. He knew Clarke well, but he was still worried that he might be crossing a line with asking her out for coffee. They’d been friends for a long time, strictly platonic, they would both say, but Bellamy would still worry that he was rushing everything along too fast. 

________

She’s still in bed when she hears the door open again, key rattling in the door as she hears it creak, wide open. She’s still hidden within the safety of her own room, phone by her side. If anyone asks, she’d been out of bed, done some cleaning, washing, and had retreated back into bed for a nap. 

She shouts as loudly as she can with her sore throat, “I’m okay Raven, I promise!” She manages to get out before she splutters into a cough, her head pounding. She knew she still needed to head out the store, but in the state she was in, she wouldn’t be able to make it anyway. Bedsheets tangled around her body, a packet of tissues retrieved from her drawer, thrown haphazardly across her bed. She feels like a hot mess, and retreats further under her sheets so that Raven wouldn’t know she was in bed all afternoon. If Raven asks, Clarke would say she was napping. 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re okay, princess.” 

She doesn’t expect to hear that voice, slowly realising that she was meant to be meeting Bellamy for coffee today. Shit. She’d spent nearly all day in bed, head throbbing as she felt sorry for herself. She’d had a long week, working three twelve hour shifts in a row, supervising an RTC admission and shadowing a handful of surgeries. It was tough, Clarke would admit it - but she wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Bellamy. I didn’t forget about you, I promise…” she calls aloud as she hears his heavy footsteps come up the stairs. She could tell it was him, even if he hadn't spoken; his footsteps creaking a different rhythm. 

She peeks her head up out of her duvet, immediately wincing at the loss of heat as she sees him standing in the doorway, hands letting go of the shopping bags, the noise making her shudder. 

“I know it might be too forward, but I thought some of this might help. I had a feeling you might not be feeling too good. I know we haven’t been together for very long, it’s still early days, but I’ve known you for years, and I like to think I know you, Griffin.” he trails off, looking at the floor as his nerves get the best of him. He plays with his hands and can’t bear to look at her as his cheeks heat up. He knows he’s falling for this girl, and falling fast, but he also knows he needs to take it slow. 

“You’re so cute, Bell. And thank you, so much. I’m so sorry for not texting you. I really didn’t want to ruin today, for either of us. And I also don’t want to get you sick. It means a lot to me, though.” She reassures him as she sits up in her bed, patting a Bellamy-sized space next to her, calling him over. He nervously walks over, perching on the smallest amount of the bed possible as she leaned her head into him.

“You’re cute. All of this is cute. I can’t believe you did this for me.” She says quietly, hands landing on Bellamy’s arms as her eyes start to droop. “I’m tired, Bell. And I’m really sorry we couldn’t go and have coffee.” She admits defeat. 

She feels bad, as this was going to be their first proper date together. Throughout the five years that they’d known each other, all of their friends had teased them for being so obviously in love, but Bellamy and Clarke had yet to see it. They’d both had relationships with other people that had turned sour, but they were both yet to realise the person they wanted most was right in front of them. 

“Rest your eyes for a little bit, Clarke. I’ll be back in a little bit, okay? Try not to miss me too much.” He whispers gently, laying her down in her bed and making sure she’s comfortable enough. She nods her head softly, brain too fuzzy to say anything in reply, and she drifts off to sleep as Bellamy makes his way out of the door. 

_______

He makes his way to the store for the second time, his stomach rumbling as he realises the time. It was starting to get late, and he was sure that Clarke hadn’t eaten very much today, from the sounds of things. He picks up some painkillers and cough syrup to help her feel better, and browses through the food aisle, thinking about what he could make her. 

He thinks about his dad, when he was around, and what he would cook for his mother. She still tells him all sorts of stories, about when he used to treat her right. He would remember her story of their first date, sat together in his tiny apartment, scallops frying on the stove, the smell filling the entire room. He makes sure to get some scallops for Clarke, too. He wants to make this a cute date for Clarke, even if she is sick. 

_____

Clarke is still tucked in bed, surrounded by the warmth, when she hears noise coming from below her. In her tired haze, she panics; banging and clashing echoing through the walls. She hears sudden frustrated grunts, a _ familiar _ noise, and the puzzles slot together. Bellamy’s back, and whatever he’s doing, he doesn’t seem to be too sure about it. 

Her legs swing over the side of her bed, her feet touching the cold floor, flinching slightly. She throws the duvet off of her body, feet padding around her bedroom, heading in the direction of the noise, hair a mess from her deep sleep. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she enters her tiny little kitchen to see Bellamy again. He’s frantic, hands running through chocolate curls as he sighed with frustration. He’s murmuring to himself, she can hear. 

“Where does that princess keep the goddamn frying pan? It can’t be that hard to impress a girl, right, Blake? You’re doing well so far, don’t mess it up…” He speaks to himself, heart racing slightly as he mentally prepares himself for the evening. He never took himself as an anxious person, but when it came to Clarke, to impressing her and trying to make her happy, it was a different story. His sister would always tease him, hands clamming whenever he was texting her, and his signature hands through his hair a dead giveaway of his nerves. 

She stands in the doorway, hand propped against the frame as she watches him, him unaware of her presence. There’s a smug look on her face as he continues to hunt around for a pan, grocery bags long forgotten in the corner of the kitchen. She decides to watch him for a couple of minutes, taking in as he rolls his shirt sleeves up, dark, strong arms now on show. She can’t help but hold back a chuckle, watching him fumble around before she pipes up.

“Bottom cupboard, on the left-hand side.” She makes him jump, Bellamy turning around so fast she thinks he’ll get whiplash. He’s speechless, hands a mess and shirt crumpled in his search for a pan. She wasn’t expecting to wake up to Bellamy cooking for her, that’s for sure. She surveys the room to see the table set, plates and cutlery laid out in waiting. 

“I’m not usually this messy, I promise. SIt down, I wanted to make you something nice.” He replies, finally retrieving the pan as he sets it on the burner, hands searching for some butter that he’d left, somewhere. Clarke sinks into a chair, eyes boring into the back of his head as he fishes ingredients out of the bags, setting them in front of him. He picks out a chopping board from a cupboard too, knife waiting ready. _ Bellamy with a knife? Well that’s something she didn’t want to think about... _

“A Blake family recipe, I promise. My dad used to cook this for my mom, and me and O could smell it, everytime.” He’s not sure if he’s talking to himself, or to Clarke, but she hums from where she sits as he chops and slices, getting to work on his cooking, and less making a mess. He feels slightly guilty about leaving Clarke’s apartment in such a state, but anything to make her smile. 

“It’s nearly ready, I promise.” He promises, body shielding Clarke’s view as he sets the scallops in the pan, tongs in hand ready. The sizzle of the searing is familiar, reminding him of when he was young, when his father was around, and treated his mother like she wasn’t a piece of dirt. 

He turns around with the pan still in hand, the scent of garlic and lemon filling her nostrils. She beams at him as he plates the food, kissing her on the cheek before he returns to the sink to leave the pan to wash. 

“You didn’t have to do this for me, Bell. It’s really nice of you, though.” She tells him as he sits down, pulling his chair in and pouring them a glass of wine. “I really didn’t expect this. I’m sorry I was pretty out of it today, but if this is what I get, I think I'm going to be sick more often.” She laughs, watching his eyes crease as he chuckles at her, eyes looking into hers. 

_________

  


Once they’ve both finished eating, Clarke turns to Bellamy again. She looks at him for a moment before speaking, admiring him. She still can’t believe how handsome he is, arms strong and sturdy, broad shoulders. That neck she can’t help but hide her face into when she hugs him, peppering little kisses up throat. She loves the way she needs to stand on her tippy toes to kiss him properly, the way his hands fly to her hair to keep her stable, when she feels like her knees will give out at any moment. 

“That was amazing, Bellamy. Thank you so much.” She steps in front of him, eyes looking into his. She can’t really believe this man is hers, sometimes. He makes her feel spoilt. She’s not used to it, not really, not since Finn had treated her like she was worthless. Sometimes she feels like she doesn’t deserve it, and she finds it hard, but she knows Bellamy understands. 

“I’m glad you think so, Princess. You deserve it.” He confirms with a kiss, mouth curling into a smile as he pulls away. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s fallen in love with her. He fell in love with her a long time ago, from the moment he saw her walk in his house, Octavia in hand. He remembers seeing a flash of blonde for the first time, hearing an unfamiliar giggle, a foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach at the noise. Blue eyes meet his, curious, searching him from head to toe as Octavia pauses, introducing them. Bellamy couldn’t have told you what she had said, however. He was too busy staring at this goddess of a friend Octavia had brought home that night. 

She smiles a big grin back up at him, eyes squinting slightly. “Let me help you clean up. It’s only fair.” She feels a sudden twinge of guilt. Days off were rare for her, and she usually planned her days off well, keeping busy with Raven or Octavia. She wasn’t the type to get sick, either, (The perks of working in a hospital, Clarke would say.) but if she was, she would at least try to keep herself busy.

She’d been known to lose herself in painting on her days off. With working in the hospital, Clarke never found herself with a lot of time. So when she happens to have time to herself, she locks herself in her room, charcoal and pencils surrounding her, letting her fingers take control, flowing around the paper. She wouldn’t realise until after her and Bellamy had gotten together, though, that the same face of freckles would appear on her paper every time. 

Clarke collects the dishes while Bellamy starts straightening up the kitchen, putting away the placemats as she started to run the water for the dishes, soap bubbles floating around them. 

Their bodies dance to a rhythm as they tidy up the kitchen together, Clarke washing up as Bellamy dries, placing the dishes where they belong on the rack. Their bodies and souls work together as one as they clean, sneaking kisses to the other whenever they pass. 

They both know they haven’t been together long, but they’re both sure they could do this forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is disgustingly fluffy
> 
> follow me at @taylor-morley on tumblr


End file.
